Saints and Sinners
by TheLostMaximoff
Summary: Pyro's been running from the ghosts of his past for a long time. Things have a way of catching up to you though.
1. Scorched Earth

Saints and Sinners

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Well, kids, your Uncle TLM is back. I might be a little rusty at this but we'll see what we can do. R/R.

It was always the same dream. He woke in a cold sweat night after night to the same dream. His nightmares subsided when he first arrived in America. Lately, they had returned. St. John Allerdyce assumed that it was because of boredom. You could only watch a tape of your boss exploding so many times before it lost its appeal. The boredom would creep in and with it would come the nightmares just as always. Usually when that happened, Pyro would pack up his life and outrun the ghosts that haunted him. He had been having the nightmares for weeks before he left Australia. Magneto coming to recruit him was like a Godsend. Pyro didn't believe in God though.

It was cold outside. Pyro wasn't used to the cold. It was one of the culture shocks he got when he came to America. His homeland was many things but cold was never one of them. He sucked in a breath of frigid air and looked at the contents of the storage unit. A locker would've been easier and cheaper but he preferred this for some odd reason unknown to even him. The only item in the unit was a clothes rack. The only item on the rack was his costume. The visor hung from the collar like a pair of sunglasses, casting an accusatory gaze at him. It was time to run again. It was time to start over. Realistically, there was no reason to continue being Pyro. The Acolytes were done, their great leader nothing more than a memory. It was time to hang up his flamethrowers and find something else to do with his life.

"Right sad sight that is," he said to himself, patting himself down for a pack of cigarettes and pulling out his lighter with his other hand. "Had some larks didn't we? Good times."

The lighter flicked open with the clink of metal. It was an old lighter he carried with him from home. It had been with him even before he started smoking. The flame of the lighter danced before his eyes and without thinking he reached out to it with his powers. The flame leapt down to the floor and then spiraled upward. It took the shape of a woman just as it always did when he was alone with it.

_'Don't go. Please.'_

The fire said that to him sometimes. It teased him at some moments but was vulnerable at others. St. John always loved the fire. She was another thing that came with him from his homeland. She was another thing he had to leave behind. Things just weren't the same anymore. He wanted more. He wanted to run. She always ran with him but not this time. It was time to be something new. It was time to make the nightmares stop.

"Have to, luv," he told the fiery construct. "We had some good times though."

_'What did I do? What did I do to make you not want me?'_

It wasn't her. He wanted to make her understand that but somehow he knew she never would. The thing he learned about fire, and people as well, was that it had to breathe. It consumed oxygen to sustain itself just like a person. People had to breathe. They had to grow and sometimes they outgrew other people. That was the thing about fire. You could only contain it for so long before it grew too large to control.

"Nothin' ya did, luv," he told the fire.

She didn't like the response but it was true. St. John Allerdyce turned to leave, the lighter slipping back into his pocket and his craving for a cigarette momentarily forgotten. He had memorized the bus schedule and had to muster up the courage to take the last one for the evening.

_'You'll come back! You always come back and you come back crawling! You'll come back to me in the end!"_

The fire dissipated as he closed the door and locked the storage unit. He knew she wouldn't understand. That was the crux of their relationship. They needed each other but now the nightmares were too much. Their relationship was different now. St. John had learned that was what people did. They grew apart from each other. Nothing could last forever. Everything burned out sooner or later. Sometimes he felt like he was living in a dark hole, in a pit that he couldn't quite get out of. Maybe that was why he picked a storage unit instead of a locker. He figured that she could live in there, spruce the place up and make it a good home. He was giving her some space and he hoped that she could afford him the same courtesy. St. John pulled his coat tighter around him and sighed. It was a long walk to the bus station.

XXXXX

St. John was starting to forget the sound of her voice by the time he approached the station. The weird thing was how easy it was to let someone go. He thought it would be harder. He thought it would involve more arguing and fighting. It was a quiet and somber dissolution. Fire could rage with all its fury and power but when it died, it died a slow and quiet death. He had never imagined such a death for himself. He always assumed it would be a blaze of glory for Pyro, a grand and glorious death. In the end though, Pyro just died a slow and quiet death with St. John Allerdyce as his only mourner. He thought it was better that way.

St. John was about to step into the bus station but there was a commotion off to the side. It was late at night and not many people were around. The noise could be heard quite clearly but it seemed he was the only one interested. St. John tried to tell himself not to pay any attention to it. He was no hero, no knight in shining armor. The one time he tried to be still haunted him in his dreams. No, better to stick to his mission than to get sidetracked with other things. It was when he heard the frightened yelp of a girl that he knew he couldn't ignore it any longer.

St. John moved calmly into the alley and studied the scene. There were two thugs and one girl. He guessed her age around eleven or twelve though it was hard given the lack of proper light. Still, it wasn't hard to guess what was going on. In his line of work, or perhaps it was just Pyro's line of work, he got used to such things. He knew that some things could haunt you though.

"I told ya to shut 'er up."

St. John was interested to note the man's accent. It was the same as his. Not many people from the land of Oz made it to the city limits of Bayville. As far as St. John knew, he was the only one.

"It ain't like there's anybody around to hear her."

That voice was American, no mistaking that. St. John moved towards the two men who had now succeeded in their task of silencing the girl. They were average for their occupations. Thugs weren't known for their flamboyancy. Super-villains went in for that but not your average thug.

"Oy!" he hailed the duo. "Got a light fer a bloke? Seems I lost mine." He held up a pack of cigarettes to help sell his story. "Might be willin' ta share."

"Get lost, pal," said the American. "This is private business. Not your concern."

"Who's the girl?" asked St. John and neither of the thugs seemed inclined to answer. "Not gonna share? That's alright. See I got a light aftah all. It's right 'ere."

The thugs seemed perplexed as St. John took out his lighter and flicked it open. Their bewilderment turned to terror as St. John blew the flame towards them and a fireball leapt forth instead. Both of them stumbled backwards and the one holding the girl let her go. Under St. John's direction, the fire morphed into a swarm of skittering insects that crawled all over the men. They screamed and thrashed, rolling in an attempt to get the insects off of them. St. John wasted little time in pulling the girl behind him and back up the way he had come in.

"You're a dead man for that!" snarled the American. He and his partner in crime managed to shake off the bugs and were coming towards him fast.

"Not tonight," said St. John and the fire moved from his lighter to make a wall that would halt their advance. "Dunno what you blokes want with 'er but it's not gonna happen."

The two thugs were irate but there was very little they could do beyond voice their displeasure. The wall could burn them very easily if they tried to force their way through it. St. John spent little time waiting to see if they would try it. He backed out of the alley with the girl in tow and then practically dragged her into the station. He wanted to get her into a crowded area and then let the building's security handle things from there. He also wanted to catch his bus and be on his way but it appeared as if it was too late for that.

"Those creeps were trying to kidnap me," said the girl.

"Bloody hell," sighed St. John when he realized the bus had already left. "That was the last bus outta here tonight and I missed it."

"But you saved my life," reminded the girl. "My name's Julie. What's yours?"

"SinJin," he replied, using the abbreviated version of his name.

"That's a weird name."

"Don't I know it." He sighed again and realized they needed to get somewhere safe for the night. "Those thugs are gonna be lookin' for ya. Tell me why."

Julie looked at the floor and studied it for a few moments before looking back up at him. He could see that he was right about her estimated age range. A lifetime ago when he was that age, he knew a girl that looked like Julie.

"I ran away from home and they found me," she explained. "My dad owns a software company. They probably want his money."

"Well they're not gonna get any," he promised her. "C'mon, we'll get us a nice hotel room and then pop off ta yer parents in the morning."

"I don't wanna go home," she stated.

"And why not?"

"Because I'm a mutant," she told him after another pause. "Dad doesn't like mutants."

St. John Allerdyce looked at this little girl who was more scared of herself than any mugger or kidnapper. He knew what a terrible thing it was to realize for the first time that you were a mutant. It was worse when you were a kid and the world was already scary enough.

"C'mon," he told her as he took her hand. "Let's get ya somewhere safe and then ya show me what ya do. I promise I won't call tha cops on ya or take ya home just yet."

"You won't get mad if I show you?"

"I'm one too."

"Oh." She seemed pleased by his confession and went with him as he tried to find a hotel that would be out of the way.

XXXXX

The hotel was cheap and it was far enough from the bus station that St. John was sure the thugs from the alley couldn't follow them. Magneto kept a small stash of money at the base, money that St. John had pilfered for his own use before leaving. He thought it was mostly there for when the boss's brat son stopped by to visit. He never thought much of Quicksilver. Pietro was his father's son, always scheming some master plan. St. John never went in for all that. It wasn't really his thing.

"This is it?" asked Julie.

"Not a bloody palace but it'll do." He wasn't sure what kind of accommodations she was used to but he imagined they were better than this. "It's just one night, Yer Highness."

Julie shot him a dirty look and then plopped on one of the beds before flicking on the TV. St. John looked at her, trying to shake away the memory that haunted him. He absently played with his lighter, flicking it open and then closing it. The memory of the acrid stench of smoke filled his nose and he threatened to choke on it. The clinking sound from his lighter became more insistent, almost manic.

_'Told you that you'd come crawling back, John. I think you set a new record time.'_

"Do you mind?" asked Julie and her words brought St. John back to the present and out of the past. "It's really annoying."

"Sorry," he apologized, draping his coat over the back of a chair and sitting on the other bed.

"Why do you keep staring at me?"

"Ya remind me o' someone I knew when I was yer age."

"So what happened to her?"

He didn't answer her question and instead motioned that she should turn off the TV and go to bed. She rolled her eyes and obliged. He didn't want to go into detail about what had happened to Olivia. That was the painful part of his past that he was trying to escape.

_'But why escape, John? Why not live in the present with me?'_

St. John Allerdyce sighed and put his lighter on the nightstand that was in between the two beds. He turned out the lights and hoped that there would be no nightmares this night. As usual, his hopes were in vain.

XXXXX

Whoever her rescuer was, the girl was now lost to the two thugs. They had doubled back around the wall of fire but by the time they did so, it was too late. They didn't waste any time in going to their superior with the news of their failed kidnapping.

"I gave ya one job," said the man they knew only as Cole. "One blasted job and ya bloody screw that up. We watched 'er place fer weeks ta plan this and then she decided to drop inta our laps instead. How daft do ya 'ave ta be ta screw that up?"

It wasn't our fault," said the American. "this guy showed up and rescued her. I think he was a mutant."

"Bloke 'ad an accent," added the Australian. "It was like ours. He did some tricks with fire."

Cole arched his eyebrow and lifted one of his cybernetic arms to rest his hand under his chin in a quizzical manner. There were few people from his homeland who could do what the two men described. In fact, there was only one that he knew of.

"SinJin," he muttered.

"Ya know him?"

"Yeah. He's an old mate," explained Cole. "The Claymore girl is too valuable to lose. We're gonna find them and get our hands on her. Her dad's gonna pay us a king's ransom for that brat. Reavers, spread out and track 'em down."

The other men in Cole's group moved to comply with his order. Cole smiled at the memory of St. John Allerdyce. Cole and St. John had met growing up on the streets back in Australia and now it seemed their paths would cross once again. Cole couldn't wait to catch up with his old friend though he doubted St. John would enjoy their little reunion.


	2. Original Sin

Saints and Sinners (Part Two)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Keep doing the R/R thing.

Foster care was miserable. It was bad enough knowing that you were unwanted. It was worse when you had the wrong person getting you. St. John Allerdyce thought getting adopted by the McCarthy family was a good thing. That was true until Mrs. McCarthy died in a car accident a few months later. Mr. McCarthy found himself a single father to not one but two children: St. John and Olivia. Olivia was Tom McCarthy's only biological child and even though she was the same age as St. John, she was more frail due to the complications of her birth. Her father took every opportunity to point that out.

St. John spent his time at the McCarthy home mostly getting into trouble although it wasn't difficult to incur his foster father's wrath. Still, St. John assumed that as long as Tom was laying into him both physically and verbally, he wasn't doing the same to Olivia. St. John didn't mind the beatings. It was just kindling for his rage. He was always an angry boy, always hotheaded with a smart mouth. Tom didn't like that and sough to beat the rebelliousness out of his foster son. St. John was equally stubborn in refusing to change, to break.

One night was particularly gruesome. Tom liked to smoke while he drank and he did both of them too often. What he also did too often was stub his cigarettes out on the flesh of his children, most of the time on their arms or legs, if they were misbehaving. He made sure the burns were in places that clothing could cover. One night, he did it to Olivia and it was more than enough for St. John to endure.

"Tol' ya ta leave 'er alone!" he snapped at his father who was never really his father in any sense of the word.

"Say that again?" dared Tom and he lit another cigarette that St. John was sure had his name on it. "Ya bloody don't know yer manners, ya little shit."

For the rest of his life, St. John Allerdyce would never remember the full details of that night. There was a scuffle between him and Tom. St. John ended up on the floor. Olivia attempted to intervene but her father backhanded her. The force of the blow sent Olivia backwards and as she fell, her head cracked against the coffee table. St. John watched the blood ooze from her skull. She never got up, didn't even move a muscle. Things got fuzzy after that. The red filled his eyes and the next thing he knew, he was huddled in the heart of an inferno.

XXXXX

St. John awoke to cold sweat running down his face. He looked at the clock and realized it had only been a couple of hours. Julie was awake as well, staring at him in the darkness of the hotel room. Just before she turned on the lamp that was on the nightstand, St. John swore she looked like Olivia.

"You woke me up," she said.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Go back ta bed. I'm goin' out fer a ciggy." He didn't wait to see if she did as he said. He threw his coat over his shoulders and went outside.

_'That night wasn't all bad, John.'_

St. John wondered if he was ever going to be rid of her voice in his head. No one else in his life understood his powers and his unique kinship to the element he only controlled some of the time. Fire wasn't a tool for him. That was what others of his kind thought about their own mutant powers. They used them as tools or weapons but St. John had a different perspective on his own gift. After that night when the firefighters found him in the blaze, the fire was always with him. She comforted him, strengthened him, forged him into the man he was today as only flames could do. As he grew in the use of his power, so did his love for her because she was all he had left. She never let him forget it either. So why did he think he could leave her then? Why did he choose to snuff her out knowing that she would only reignite like a phoenix? He knew the answer. During any relationship, there would come a point where one person outgrew the other. She was going to smother him, steal the very oxygen in his lungs because that was what fire did. It choked out whatever it could to keep itself going. Instead he decided to smother her before she did the same to him.

"Smoking's bad for you."

St. John didn't even realize he had lit the cigarette. He was already a couple puffs in when he heard Julie's words. He looked down at her and shrugged indifferently before taking another drag. He watched the few cars on the highway pass by. The wind blew cold and he pulled his coat tighter around his body.

"So's tha telly," he reminded her.

"It's not like my parents pay attention to me."

St. John looked at Julie and he realized that maybe they were more alike than they knew. He wished that someone had paid attention to him when he was her age. Someone had though, or maybe it was just _something_. After that night at the McCarthys, the fire paid attention to him. She made sure he was never alone and he loved her for that.

"Show me what ya do," he finally suggested to Julie. "Ya got a power, right?"

"I set stuff on fire if I think about it hard enough," she told him.

"Handy thing, that."

Julie didn't look like she agreed with St. John's statement. So far, her power hadn't done her any good. She felt ashamed of it, so ashamed that she wanted to run away from home rather than face her parents and tell them the truth. She had listened to every hateful thing her father had said about mutants since the day he first learned they existed. Now his little princess was one of them.

"You do the same thing," she reminded him.

"Can't make it," corrected St. John. "I just tell 'er what ta burn."

"Her?"

It occurred to him maybe for the first time in his life that he never talked about his power with anyone. St. John knew he didn't have the words to properly explain it. Things weren't as easy for him as they were for other mutants. No one really asked too many questions about his power. Magneto certainly hadn't when he first saw what St. John could do. All the leader of the Acolytes seemed to care about was making sure St. John employed his skills for maximum benefit to the cause. Powers weren't the only things that could be used as tools or weapons. People could be too and St. John knew that too well.

"The fire," he explained to Julie and it was then he noticed people approaching. "Get back inside, Julie."

Julie realized what he was talking about and saw the two thugs from earlier among the group of men coming their way. She did as she was told and St. John followed close behind her. He used his powers to turn the flame from his lighter into a saw and hacked off the door's knob and locking mechanism. He knew that was only going to buy them a few seconds. If they had any kind of firepower as St. John suspected they did, they would just blast their way in. He turned the table in the room on its side and motioned for Julie to get under the sink before using the table to barricade her inside the space.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Those guys are the ones from before."

"I know," retorted St. John. "Yer gonna be fine, Julie. I promise."

The door held out longer than he thought it would. It creaked and strained after the first blow but St. John knew it wouldn't survive another one. He let the fire trail out of his lighter and form itself until he held a fireball in each hand. He tensed himself and held his breath, waiting for the impending invasion. He had missed this. He missed the excitement of a fight, the thrill of a battle. He missed the sureness when he felt the flamethrowers on his wrists. Most of all, he missed the voice in his head, the one that drove him to be Pyro. He would never love anything as much as he loved the fire. He told himself that was the truth. So why did he leave her in the dark then, to wither away until she was extinguished?

"Sight fer sore eyes ya are, SinJin."

St. John barely recognized the voice. He hadn't seen Cole in a long time. Cole was a street kid just like him. In the months that followed the incident at the McCarthy house, St. John took to living on the streets. The fire kept him company but he longed for a real friend. Cole had been that friend but that friendship didn't last. Cole only saw St. John's power as a resource he could use for his own ends. In many ways, he was the same as Magneto but Cole had no power of his own. When Magneto recruited him for the Acolytes, St. John never even said goodbye to Cole. At that point, he already understood the nature of their fake friendship and he didn't want any part of it. Cole never liked the fire anyway and, maybe more importantly, the fire never liked Cole in return.

"Cole," greeted St. John. "Ran into yer mates there. Why're ya interested in that girl?"

"She's worth a lot," answered Cole. "Dad's a big software bloke. Figured that might be handy."

St. John could see that Cole hadn't changed much. He was still chasing the thief's dream of a big score. St. John was never really a thief. He did it to get by but he wasn't that kind of criminal. He was something else, something different. If he could pick one word to describe himself, it would be that one. St. John Allerdyce was always different.

"Yer not takin' 'er, mate," he promised Cole.

"Ya were always tha sucker, SinJin," retorted Cole. "I got power now too and yer daft if ya think I'll let ya stop me."

Cole raised one of his cybernetic arms and St. John responded by tossing one of his fireballs at him. A blast of energy from Cole's hand met the fireball and then explosion blew both of them in opposite directions. The rest of Cole's Reavers sprang into action. They pulled out what looked like high-tech handguns. St. John realized he didn't have enough space while he was in the room with them. He had to control his attacks so he didn't set the whole room on fire and cook Julie alive. His power wasn't conducive to being indoors or in close quarters.

"Tha bloody hell 'ave ya done ta yerself?" he wondered aloud after noticing Cole's arm.

The two thugs from earlier in the night moved past him to get at Julie. St. John spun one of them around and punched him in the face with the fist that still had a fireball in it. The man staggered backwards and clutched his face. St. John expected the scent of burnt flesh to fill the room but it didn't. The man removed his hand from his face and St. John could see the wires in the man's flesh. The skin healed rapidly until it was good as new. St. John turned and readied another fireball but Cole fired an energy blast at him that sent him sprawling backwards. His lighter tumbled from his hand and his concentration broke, causing all flames in the area to die out. He knew that without the lighter he was defenseless and he struggled to reach it. Cole crossed the room far faster than a normal human and stamped on St. John's fingers before he could get them on the lighter.

"Ya think yer powers mean shite ta me?" he asked St. John before he motioned to the third of his goons to join them while the other two moved the makeshift barricade aside to get Julie. "I got power now too, SinJin. I don't want that git's money. I want his tech and he's gonna deliver unless he wants his little princess dead."

Cole kicked St. John in the ribs and motioned for his goon to join in. St. John tried to cover himself up but without any fire to aid him, his power was useless in a fight. Cole's goon hoisted him to his feet and St. John thought his jaw was broken after one punch from Cole's cybernetic fist.

"Not gonna let ya," he said weakly as he tried to get his lighter again.

Cole laughed and kicked it out of reach before delivering another kick to St. John's ribcage that left him lying motionless on the floor. Julie was screaming for help even as the two Reavers dragged her away.

"I want ya ta remember this, SinJin," said Cole. "I want ya ta know that yer not better than me. Ya nevah were. I got all tha power now, SinJin, and nobody's gonna stop me from takin' what I bloody well please."

Cole and his gang took their leave and left St. John lying on the floor. The former Acolyte was still for a few moments before his consciousness returned.

_'Get up, John. Make them pay.'_

He willed his body to move, spurred on by her voice. He finally gripped his lighter and he felt the sureness of rage grip him once he held the little piece of metal in his hand. He couldn't take on Cole with just a lighter though. He had to have more than that if he was going to get his revenge.

St. John rose to his feet and flicked open the lighter, snarling like a wounded animal. The flames exploded outward and grew so fast that they began to engulf the room. He couldn't feel the heat though. The fire took the shape of the woman that he knew so well. She nodded to him and he returned the gesture as best he could. Cole thought that he and his thugs had power. They didn't know what real power was. He would teach them though. He would find them and when he did he would take his time. He would make sure they understood. First though, he needed some better weaponry.

St. John reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the key inside it. His smile was manic as he held the key up and watched the light from the flames make it gleam. It was so amazing how such little pieces of metal held such power over his life. It was even more amazing, however, when he thought about the one thing in his life that held absolute sway. He looked around at the inferno in the hotel room and it reminded him of that night at the McCarthy house. The firefighters called him a miracle, said that he must have had an angel watching over him. He knew though. He knew that there was only one thing he needed watching over him and it wasn't an angel.

"We're not ovah yet, mate," he said to himself before leaving the blazing inferno without a single mark on him. "We're just gettin' warmed up."


	3. A Cruel Mistress

Saints and Sinners (Part Three)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Keep doing the R/R thing.

St. John Allerdyce kicked open the door to the storage unit. He closed it behind him and then proceeded to change into his costume. The suit felt good. When he slipped the visor over his eyes, it felt like he saw the world differently. He pulled the tubing out of the backpack and connected it to the flamethrowers on his wrists. It took only seconds to lose himself to becoming Pyro again.

_'Welcome home, John.'_

Her voice was like music in his head. It danced along his brain and left him giddy. He had to remember what he was doing this for, _who_ he was doing this for. Julie needed a knight in shining armor, a hero. She was going to have to settle for him.

"Where would he go?" wondered Pyro aloud as he left the storage unit and locked it behind him.

_'Always with a girl, John. Can't you forget that brat and let the police handle it?'_

"No," said Pyro to himself. He was trying to think even with the blood pounding in his ears. "This was planned. Cole woulda 'ad eyes on her. They saw 'er run off."

_'Then let's pay her parents a visit.'_

Pyro wasn't the best with computers but he could do enough with the internet that his called for. He couldn't walk into a public place looking like this though. The costume could be covered up with his coat but his gear would have to be stashed somewhere for a few minutes. Pyro threw his coat on over his costume. The flamethrowers would have to go somewhere. They would look too clunky and he already looked weird enough with the backpack on. He would have to chance it though. If Cole still had people watching Julie's house then he could find one of those people and make them not only talk but scream as well. That would definitely improve his mood.

_'Now you're talking like the man I love.'_

Pyro smiled to himself as the fire reassured him about his course of action. The night was still young and there was so much left to burn.

XXXXX

Pyro studied the car and barely resisted the urge to throw a fireball at it. It didn't take him long to find out about Julie Claymore and her parents. Mr. Claymore was a popular man in the world of computers. His software was almost legendary and it was easy to see why Cole wanted to get his hands on it. Pyro wasn't going to let that happen though. He was going to make sure Cole got what he deserved.

_'Everyone will, John.'_

Pyro kept watching the car that held two of Cole's men in it. He knew Cole would want eyes on the house but he figured Cole's thugs wouldn't show their faces with so many cops around. He couldn't see any police cars though. Was it possible that Claymore hadn't called the police yet? Maybe he wasn't even aware that Julie was gone. She had mentioned that she ran away from home and that her parents weren't very attentive in the first place. Pyro wondered if he was her only hope then. It was debatable as to whether or not that was a good thing if it was true.

"Bettah get tha cops involved then," he decided to himself as he circled around back.

Much like all his plans, this one was simple. He was going to do what he always did: start a fire. Pyro engaged the flamethrower on his right hand and sprayed the grass next to the house with a jet of flame. The grass was still dry and it caught fire rapidly. He set flame to some of the bushes underneath the window and hoped that would do the trick.

_'You never did enjoy waiting, John. I do love that about you.'_

"C'mon," muttered Pyro as he waited for someone to report the fire so the police would come.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait too long. The police and the fire department showed up and got to work on things. Once Cole's men saw the extra activity, they decided it was time to call it a night. Pyro was watching and waiting when they pulled their car out of its spot and made their escape. He wasn't going to let them off that easy. Pyro watched to see which direction they moved and then rain in that direction. He tried to keep the car in sight until they were far enough away from the Claymore house. Once he felt like that was the case, he made his move.

The line of fire shot out of one of his flamethrowers and as it sailed through the air it changed into something else. A giant tiger made out of fire pounced onto the car. Its claws cut holes into the vehicle's roof and at Pyro's command the creature ripped it clean off. The driver swerved the car to shake off Pyro's monstrous beast and he ended up crashing into a lamppost. Pyro walked over to the car and created a giant hand out of fire that ripped the door off the driver's side of the car. His tiger yanked the driver out and then moved to do the same to the other passenger.

"What the hell are you?" asked the driver.

"I'm tha guy that's gonna ask ya some questions," answered Pyro. "I bettah get some bloody good answers too."

There was a scream from the other thug as the tiger's fangs sank into his flesh, dotting his body with fiery teeth marks. The driver pulled out his gun but Pyro shot out a flame blast that turned the gun to slag and severely injured the man's hand and arm in the process. Fire was a dangerous weapon. It was unpredictable unless you knew how to control it as Pyro did. Even then, so many things could go wrong. People didn't understand how flammable their worlds really were.

"What do you wanna know?"

Pyro smirked at how easily people could fold when faced with the prospect of death. Burning was such a nasty and painful way to go. When Magneto began training him, the Master of Magnetism made Pyro do some reading on what fire could do to a human body. It was possibly the most painful way to die and even if people lived through it, they were irrevocably changed. Skin grafts only did so much.

"Ya work fer Cole," said Pyro. "Tell me where he is." He knew it was a statement and not a question.

"I don't know."

Pyro closed his eyes and smiled at another scream from the other thug that his tiger was devouring. The serene look on his face took only a second to turn into one of cold rage. The driver was clutching his wounded arm and trying hard not to follow suit with his partner.

"Ya like playin' games," said Pyro as the flames in one of his hands turned into what looked like a pencil. "Let's play one, mate."

The tiger had finished killing the other thug and now it sprang towards the driver. Its claws turned into clamps that held the driver's arms against the car as Pyro took his pencil and began to draw on the man's chest with it. The driver screamed in agony as Pyro made two vertical lines and then two horizontal ones to create nine boxes.

"I'm not tellin' you anything, you son of a bitch."

"I'll be X's, you be O's," suggested Pyro before marking a giant X in the center box. "Now again, where the bloody hell is Cole?"

The driver clenched his teeth and it only made Pyro angrier. He drew an O in the upper left corner. He repeated the same question and again the driver wouldn't answer. An X appeared in the top middle box.

"I'll talk!"

Pyro almost didn't want to let the man spill his guts about Cole's hiding place. He was having too much fun with the game. Her voice in his head was blocking out everything else. Nothing mattered more than the fire did. A long time ago, that wasn't true but it was now.

"I was 'bout ta win," he told the thug.

"They're keeping her in one of her father's old shipping facilities," explained the thug. "It's been abandoned for years. It's on the edge of town."

"Cheers," thanked Pyro before extinguishing all his constructs and then walking away. He assumed that the internet could give him the address.

_'You're not going to kill him?'_

Pyro looked back at the man and could tell he had fallen into unconsciousness by now. It would be a simple matter to kill him. All it would really take would be the push of a button. He rarely hesitated to cause destruction so why now?

"Wouldn't be sporting," he told her voice in his head. "He's not gonna do anythin'."

_'That's not good enough. You need to send Cole a message.'_

He knew she was right about that. Cole had beaten him like a dog and left him for dead. Why shouldn't he kill one of Cole's thugs in retaliation? He had already killed the other one and planned to kill them all. Why not make it a perfect record and continue with that plan? Pyro stood there and felt like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff. She wanted him to jump off that cliff. Maybe he should. This wasn't the first time he had felt like this. St. John Allerdyce always felt like he was on the edge, like one wrong step could send him plummeting into the abyss. Her voice always made him feel like taking that step. She was always pushing him to new lows.

_'Do it!'_

He knew that tone. She was angry at the fact that he wouldn't let her control him. This was the nature of their relationship. This was the way it had always been and this was the way it would always be. This was why he wanted to leave.

_'I said do it!'_

Pyro could smell the smoke from that fateful night. Olivia McCarthy was lying dead on the floor. Tom McCarthy laughed in his drunken stupor and returned to the cigarette he had forgotten in the scuffle. St. John knew what had happened. He saw that Olivia wasn't getting up. He saw that she was dead and that left him with more rage in his heart than anything else ever had before. He felt something inside him snap and he could feel the flames in Tom's lit cigarette. The flames grew and St. John watched his foster father begin to writhe and scream in agony. His anger wasn't satisfied. It continued growing and the fire grew with it. It raged out of control and soon the whole house was ablaze.

_'SinJin?'_

Pyro felt that same anger now, felt the pressure build behind his eyes until his skull threatened to explode. That voice wasn't the fire's voice though. It was someone else's. He had forgotten what that voice sounded like. He had tried to make himself forget it. He had tried to make himself forget her.

"Liv," he croaked and he realized he had been crying.

_'That's right, SinJin,'_ said the voice of Olivia McCarthy. _'Live.'_

Pyro ran away from the scene of his recent crimes. He ran until his legs couldn't carry him and when that happened, he stumbled into an alley and sank to the ground. He cried until he couldn't' anymore and when that happened, everything was quiet in his head for the first time in an eternity. He pulled his cigarette lighter out of his pocket. It was never his. It always belonged to Tom McCarthy. When the firefighters found St. John that night, he hid it in his pocket and told them that Tom had somehow started the fire. No one could figure out how the flame from a cigarette lighter could do that much damage but there was no one left alive to dispute St. John's claim. It was a completely unnatural fire but the police couldn't find anything that would make them suspect it was arson. It was ruled an accident.

Pyro lit the lighter and the flame snaked to the ground and then rose into the air to take the form he knew so well. It wasn't the woman though. It was a girl. It was Olivia McCarthy just as St. John remembered her.

"I've made a right mess of things, Liv," he told her.

_'Julie needs ya, SinJin,'_ she told him. _'Don't let 'er down.'_

"I tried ta save ya," he sobbed.

_'I know. Save Julie.'_

Julie. That was what this whole thing was about. He had let the fire take over, had lost himself to her again. This was about Julie. This was about getting it right this time when he couldn't do it before. This was about saving her life, not throwing away his own for revenge.

"I'll save her," he promised, rising to his feet with a clear head for the first time in years.

_'I know ya will, SinJin. I know ya will.'_

_XXXXX_

Cole hung up the phone and looked to where he had his Reavers chain up Julie Claymore. The girl had stopped screaming for help when she realized that they were in a deserted area. That had improved Cole's mood but not by much. He had called Claymore and told him the demands for his daughter's safe return. Claymore was going to have to hand over some very important coding software, programs that would allow Cole to have backdoors into places where he could make a lot of money. Fleecing Claymore for some added cash was a nice bonus as well. There was a problem though. There were reports about a fire at the Claymore house and when Cole tried to call the two Reavers he had stationed there, they didn't pick up. He knew that Pyro wasn't that far off their trail then. They had to assume he would come after them.

"He's going to get me out of here," said Julie matter-of-factly.

"Yer daddy's not gonna do anythin' except give us what we want," corrected Cole.

"I'm not talking about him," explained Julie. "I'm talking about SinJin. He's going to get me out of here and set you on fire."

"He can try," dared Cole though at this point he wasn't as confident as he was before.


	4. Burning Bridges

Saints and Sinners (Part Four)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Keep doing the R/R thing because I'm almost done. One more chapter after this.

Pyro used the thugs' car to get himself to the drop location. The car gave out on him in the end but he was most of the way there so he made it the rest of the way on foot. Claymore used to use the warehouse to ship computer parts back before his company became what it was now. The company made the move into the software business after Claymore's programming team made some major discoveries. When the company grew too large and needed more space to house its product, Claymore had a bigger warehouse built so there was no need for this one. Pyro wondered why no one else had done anything with the property.

Pyro paused, expecting the fire to make a snide remark on being forgotten. She was strangely silent and for some reason that made him happy. He thought clearer without her voice in his head. It was a liberating feeling to not have the cloud of the fire hanging over his mind. He lit a cigarette and pondered his next move in between puffs. He could go in with both flamethrowers blazing but that would most likely get Julie killed. So what was he going to do then? He couldn't sit around and wait for Claymore to show up with the ransom. That could take the entire night and perhaps even longer. No, the longer that Julie was in Cole's hands, the hotter Pyro's blood would boil. He had to do something.

Pyro felt the rush of wind behind him and turned. The lit cigarette between his fingers ignited into a blaze that morphed into a knife. The man never saw it coming and in seconds he had the red-hot blade placed against his throat.

"Ya move and I burn a gash in yer throat with this," he told the man. "Who in hell are ya and why are ya daft enough ta take a shot at me?"

"I want my daughter back," stated the man, holding up the briefcase he was carrying. "It's all in here, everything your boss wants. Please just let my little girl go."

"That's rich, mate," laughed Pyro after extinguishing his construct. "Bloody hell ya made me waste a ciggy on that."

The man who Pyro assumed was Julie's father just stared at him quizzically. Pyro ceased his laughter and put his game-face back on. Things were going to get deadly serious in a few tense moments. It was best to be prepared for the worst.

"You don't work with them?" inquired Claymore.

"Not a chance in hell, mate," answered Pyro. "Ya must be Julie's old man. Nice kid she is. Bit of a brat sometimes but hey no worries."

"I didn't come here to have a stranger insult my daughter."

"I'll tell it to ya straight then," said Pyro. "I know tha bloke that's got 'er. His name is Cole and he's a nasty son of a bitch. I wanna help ya and yer daughter."

"How?" asked Claymore.

"Well, I can't get in there without a distraction," explained Pyro. "Too many guards. That's where I need yer help. We're gonna make that distraction so I can get in there and get both o' ya out safe."

"You expect me to trust you?" inquired Claymore. "The police are still cleaning up your handiwork from earlier tonight. Don't pretend you're not the one who set that fire on my lawn."

"Got me there," said Pyro. "Claymore, that lot in there are animals. Cole means ta take whatever ya got and then kill ya both. If ya let me help, ya both get out alive. I can handle Cole and the others. I just need ta get inside without gettin' shot."

"Then tell me your plan."

Pyro smiled. Without the voices in his head, his mind and grown much sharper. He had concocted a plan while he was busy talking to Claymore and he was convinced it could work if the man did his part.

"Lemme tell ya," he said to Claymore.

XXXXX

Things were set into place for Pyro's plan. Claymore walked inside the grounds of the warehouse and drew the attention of the Reavers. Pyro figured that Cole's men weren't very bright because Cole himself wasn't very bright, at least not in Pyro's opinion. St. John knew that he was different than other people. He was smarter than your average street kid, crazier than your average thug, and too soft-hearted to ever be the kind of villain that Magneto was. He always felt like an outcast even among those he seemingly belonged with. He tried to pretend that it didn't bother him even though it did.

Pyro circled wide around the warehouse and approached its back. He figured Cole would have some lax security around the back and he also figured that Claymore's arrival would help draw attention to the front. The only problem in this plan was his mutant power. Pyro's power wasn't one built for subtlety. It was loud and flashy, the perfect ability to make everyone see you. Stealth was never an option for him.

"I've got what your boss wants," explained Claymore. "Let me see Julie."

"She's inside," said one of the Reavers. "Cole will wanna see ya in person before ya get yer daughter back."

Pyro knew he was going to have to get inside if he wanted the rest of his plan to work. Luckily, Claymore's arrival got everyone to pay attention to him. There was only one man guarding the warehouse's rear door. Pyro pulled his lighter out of one of the pockets on his costume and lit it, figuring it was quieter than using one of his flamethrowers. He made the fire turn into a tentacle that snaked off the lighter and slithered across the ground. Before the man knew what was happening, the fire coiled around him like a rope. It tied his arms and legs together and covered his mouth so he couldn't alert his comrades. The Reaver fell down in a squirming heap and Pyro struggled to make sure the fire didn't burn him while simultaneously keeping his concentration on the other little surprise he had planned for Cole. Pyro hit the Reaver in the head with his gauntlet as lightly as he could and it was enough to knock him out.

"Right fine bit o' plannin'," he said to himself while using the flames to burn through the lock and get into the building.

"If she's hurt then you won't get anything."

Pyro took up refuge behind a stack of old crates and kept his eye on Claymore. He watched the man stop in what was about the center of the room and figured that Cole was nearby. That meant that Julie was also nearby since Cole wouldn't risk trusting his men alone with her safety.

"Mr. Claymore," said Cole. "I'm glad we could come ta an arrangement."

"Skip the small-talk," ordered Claymore. "Give me back my daughter."

Cole must have decided that Claymore was getting too uppity. Pyro heard Julie cry out and figured Cole had one of the Reavers put a little pressure on her to make sure Claymore remembered his place. Pyro decided that whoever put a hand on Julie was going to forfeit that hand as compensation for her distress.

"It's all here," said Claymore, offering Cole the briefcase. "Do you want to verify it?"

"Check it," ordered Cole and one of the Reavers crossed the room to stand in front of Claymore.

Pyro knew he wasn't going to get a better chance. Cole was smart enough to not put himself in the line of fire but St. John knew he could still cause enough chaos to rescue Julie. He tensed himself and kept his concentration on the case.

"It's all there," said Claymore, clicking the case open and slowly lifting the lid so the Reaver could see what was inside.

Pyro expanded the tiny fireball he had hidden inside the case. The fire exploded outward and took the Reaver down. It grew into a massive ogre that took up the room. The ogre spat fire onto the Reavers who tried to blast it with their weapons. The fire from the monster's breath scorched whatever men got in its way. It then bounced across the floor, skipping towards Cole. Cole blasted the fireballs and turned to see a giant boxing glove made out of fire smash him in the face.

"I shoulda known," he muttered as he saw Pyro facing him. "Nice little trick, SinJin. That's all yer good for these days though. I saw it in yer eyes tonight. Ya gone soft, mate."

"Ask those blokes ya had outside Julie's house if I'm soft," suggested Pyro as he came at Cole.

Cole warmed up his blasters but Pyro was faster on the draw. Streams of flame shot towards Cole and he barely had time to dodge them. The flames corrected their course under Pyro's control and came at Cole again. The leader of the Reavers fell back and threw Julie in front of him to use as a shield. Pyro managed to get the flames to circle both Cole and Julie, creating a ring of fire that kept them contained.

"Ya ain't got tha stones," dared Cole as the flames closed in on him.

Pyro didn't have time to worry about Cole and Julie. He needed the fire for other things. The rest of the Reavers had finished dealing with his ogre and were now intent on coming after him. Pyro sent a torrent of fire at them that turned into a giant claw. It clutched one of the Reavers' heads and crushed the man's skull. From the other end of the claw grew a giant dragon that mercilessly stomped on another Reaver while clamping its jaws around a third. Pyro turned and saw that Cole was making his escape with Julie in tow. For a split-second, he thought about letting that happen. He thought about losing himself to the fire again and he could hear the faintest whisper of her voice in the back of his mind.

_'You're doing this for Julie, SinJin.'_

It was true and he knew it. If he lost Julie now, it would be just like losing Olivia all over again. He couldn't let that happen, not again. Pyro used the fire from his dragon and turned it into a set of stairs that would take him up to the catwalk that wound around the room's perimeter. Cole was already up there but Pyro couldn't take a shot at him for fear of hitting Julie on accident. He opted instead to give chase on foot. St. John barreled through the door that led to a staircase that presumably would take him to the roof. By the time he got up the stairs and out onto the roof, Pyro could see that Cole already had Julie with him and they were standing close to the edge.

"Don't be too hasty, mate," warned Cole. "Ya wouldn't want tha brat ta 'ave an accident."

"Yer not gonna do it," stated Pyro. "Ya need 'er dad's software."

"This night's gone ta shite anyways," reminded Cole and he inched backwards slightly when he saw Pyro try to advance. "Ya got a soft heart now, SinJin. What happened ta tha bloke I knew? He was a right killer who didn't give a damn about anybody."

"I've been him for too long, Cole," said Pyro. He tried to turn on his flamethrowers but nothing happened.

"Outta gas," realized Cole. "I told ya tonight that I had all tha power. Looks like I was right. Yer nothin' without yer toys, SinJin. Ya can make pretty scary monsters but it's all fer show. Yer not tha bloke I knew, not anymore." Cole saw that Pyro was trying to pull out his lighter and he warmed up the blaster in the hand that rested next to Julie's head. "Oh don't ya try anythin', mate. Toss that lighter away unless ya want somethin' bad ta happen ta little Julie."

Pyro complied with Cole's request, throwing the lighter away and hearing it clatter along the rooftop. He tried to figure out his next move. It was completely stupid of him to have not fueled up the backpack before going to battle. Just when he needed her the most, the fire had turned her back on him. There was irony in that because it was the same thing he had done to the fire. They were made for each other in a torturous existence. It was over then and here at the end, Pyro realized that Cole was right. The man he was, that kid on the street scraping to get by, was gone. He had burned out and left nothing of himself behind. Maybe it was stupid to think that he could've been anything more than that.

Pyro looked at Julie and saw how scared she was. She was struggling as much as she could but it wasn't enough. She was a fighter just like Olivia had been. Where was it going to get her though? She would still die and all because of him. Maybe it was stupid to think he could be more. Maybe it wasn't though.

"Julie," he told her. "Show me what ya do."

Julie stopped thrashing and closed her eyes. She concentrated hard and for a few seconds everyone was still. The coat that Cole was wearing burst into flames. Pyro used his ability to intensify the heat of the flames but also made sure they only burnt Cole instead of Julie as well. Cole flailed and in that frenzy he stepped backwards again, causing both of them to go over the roof's edge. Pyro acted immediately, diving over the edge with them. He used the flames to form a net underneath them that broke their fall. Pyro climbed across the net and reached Julie, the girl having tumbled free of Cole's grasp during all the commotion. She was alive and fine.

"Are you going to kill him?" she asked after Pyro wrapped his arms around her and she finished crying.

"Not my call ta make," said Pyro. "Cheers, Julie. Ya did aces tonight. Yer dad's gonna take ya home aftah tha cops show up here. I can't be around fer that."

"How do I tell my dad about . . . you know?" asked Julie.

"Can't be around fer that either," said Pyro sadly. He used the tendrils of fire to lower them to safety and then checked on Cole. "He's unconscious but okay. Yer dad probably called tha cops already."

"Julie!"

Pyro let Julie Claymore go and watched her father sweep her into his arms. Sirens were growing louder in the distance and he knew that was his cue to leave. By the time Julie removed herself from her father's grasp in order to thank her hero, Pyro was already gone.


	5. Ashes To Ashes

Saints and Sinners (Part Five)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Last chapter so you should R/R. It's been good to finally get this thing finished. I've had the idea for it forever and it's nice to come home for a bit.

The weather was getting colder. St. John Allerdyce didn't mind that. He always had the fire to keep him warm. Ever since the incident with Julie Claymore, Pyro had kept himself out of everyone's way. He spent most of his time alone, always thinking. He took mental stock of himself on a daily basis. His head felt clearer than it had in a long time. It helped him see things in a better perspective.

The fire was always with him. She comforted him in his loneliness, kept him warm when he was cold. To deny her was to deny an essential part of himself. St. John couldn't do that. The thing he also couldn't do though was let her be in control. Their relationship was different now and he had a spoiled, rich girl to thank for that. Julie was the catalyst for his change, the spark that ignited a new fire in him. He figured he owed her a visit to see how things were going. To that end, he stood there outside the gate that would take him into the Claymore estate. He paused and patted himself down for a cigarette and his lighter. He found both of them and lit one, the glow of the flame standing out on the cloudy night.

"Dad almost had the security guys shoot you."

St. John barely had time to remove the cigarette from his mouth before he chuckled at Julie's statement. He was touched that Claymore even remembered what he looked like. He guessed that saving his daughter's life had something to do with it. Julie looked a little different than the last time he saw her. She carried herself differently and St. John wondered what had caused that change.

"Ya look good," he told her. "Jus' wanted ta check on ya."

"You could've just called," reminded Julie. "I'm doing alright, SinJin. I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life."

"Had to disappear fer awhile," he explained to her. "Yer dad wouldn't 'ave understood."

"You should've stuck around. Dad was going to pay you as a reward."

St. John laughed again after taking a puff on his cigarette. It was good to know that some things hadn't changed. He was still trying to figure out what was different about Julie. She seemed more confident. He could tell just from her posture.

"How are things?" he asked her after giving up on trying to figure it out himself.

"Better," she answered. "Dad's a little nicer about mutants but . . . I still can't tell him about what I can do. I thought about it a lot after that night but I figure he's had enough of people who start fires."

"Probably so," agreed St. John.

"Mom and Dad are better with me now," continued Julie. "We've been doing more family stuff. Dad said you told him I was kind of a brat. I think he's trying to fix that. It sucks and it's annoying but, I dunno, I guess it's good. How about you?"

"Things aren't so bad," admitted St. John. "Still haven't found any work but I've been thinkin' a lot. I'm glad we met, Julie. It was nice ta get a second chance."

"At what?"

Pyro smiled and finished the cigarette. He flicked it away and pulled his coat tighter around himself. "At being a hero and savin' someone."

"You're pretty good at it," remarked Julie. "I bet those people at the Xavier school would want you there."

"Not if they're smart," he cracked. "It's been nice seein' ya, Julie."

"You never told me about that girl," reminded Julie. "You know, the one you said I reminded you of."

"Her name was Olivia," he explained. "She was about your age when she . . . when she died. Her family took me in as a foster kid. We were best mates."

"I'm sorry." Julie looked at Pyro and could tell that even though he was better he was still broken somewhere inside.

"Somethin' I gotta live with," he said. "G'bye, Julie. I promise I'll look ya up if I'm in town again."

"Bye, SinJin. Thanks for everything."

"Ya too."

She watched him go and realized not for the first time how much she owed him. The truth though was that he owed her just as much. He thought about that as he walked aimlessly through the dark streets of Bayville with only the fire and his memories to keep him company.

_'Can we start over?'_

He never heard her take that tone with him before. There were times when the fire would apologize, would coax him back into her warm embrace. Yet her remorse always seemed so hollow now that he really looked back on it. This time was different though. This time the fire really sounded sorry. All this time, St. John had been worried about what would happen if she left him out in the cold and that fear made it easy for her to control him. Now though, she was the one worried about him leaving.

"I think so, luv," he told her.

Pyro took out the empty pack of cigarettes in his pocket and held it above his lighter. He watched the flames slowly crawl up the empty pack and he used his powers to make them burn hotter. Fire consumed everything. It devoured whatever was in its path until there was nothing left. He wasn't getting devoured again. Things had to change, had to grow. Things had to breathe because only then were they truly alive.

Pyro held the pack of cigarettes inside a fireball and just let it burn away into nothingness. When he was satisfied with his work, he snuffed out the fireball and began walking away. If he was lucky, he could get his gear packed up and catch the last bus out of town. He didn't know where he would go. Perhaps he could go back home to Australia or perhaps he would stay in the States. Wherever he went, he knew he would always have the fire with him and even if he didn't things would be okay anyway. He wasn't afraid to be alone anymore. He didn't need someone constantly around him suffocating him. He wasn't afraid to breathe anymore because breathing was what made him alive. He would go where the wind took him and as he walked away, that same wind carried the ashes of his empty pack of cigarettes and his old life away into the darkness.


End file.
